source: anecdoche

Three words to define my life currently:

“ Sonder:  The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own - populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness.

Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place 

Anecdoche: A conversation in which everybody is talking, but nobody is listening “

Life, to me, feels like this crazy conversation, but we’re all too caught up in our own thing to step back and listen to what everybody else has to say. 


A conversation in which everyone is talking, but nobody is listening

There are five adults and one baby living in my tiny home. There is constant noise, but nothing is ever heard. Everyone is so focused on their particular problem. We are all pitted against each other in one way or another. All pulling our piece from the center, stretching it to it’s breaking point. Stretching ourselves to our breaking points. I made the mistake of getting used to independence and now I’m paying for it. I’m bound by my responsibilities like any other adult walking on this earth today, and I’ll crybaby over it until I learn to accept it. I tell everyone all the time that I’m buckling under the pressure. They tell me that I just need to build my strength up. We never really hear each other. Does anyone ever really hear a cry for help, or do they wait until the problem becomes immutable and must be dealt with whether it be within ourselves or from the people around us. Being an adult, living in the adult world is one giant conversation no one is paying attention to. Not that I care to start. I listen to my best friend whose heart beats 3,000 miles away from mine, I hear her say how much happiness she gained with every mile she put between herself and home. I hear her say that some nights are darker than others and those nights home seems a little farther away and we seem a little farther apart. I hear my lover tell me I need to stop being afraid of abandonment, that he isn’t leaving so stop pushing him away. I hear him tell me that I am not alone. But that I don’t listen to. Louder than all the others in the most private conversation I have daily, I hear my son tell me he needs me, that without me he would not survive. I listen to that and I play the words on repeat every minute of my everyday. When I’m trying to get out of bed, when I’m trying to go to work, when I’m trying to get the mundane everyday things done that make a house a home, his voice is louder than all the others. The one that has yet to learn his first word is the one who’s conversation is actually heard.